Dirty Micks.

I have a new partner in crime in my classes. I don't know his name. He doesn't know mine. We just refer to one another as "Dirty Mick." The new semester has started, and it's already been a friendly competition to see who can call out more people on their bullshit, who can make the most two-sided comments to the instructor, and who can get away with what. Unfortunately, I can't take credit for the 'Dirty Mick' angle. T'was the other Dirty Mick that slung the first derrogatory phrase. The beauty of this lies in the acceptance on both of our parts of being Dirty Micks. So when the instructor began her cautionary statements about using ethnic slurs in class, I stated "It was not a slur. I am a Dirty Mick. That Dirty Mick has me pegged." To which the other Dirty Mick replied, "Yes, see, it takes one to know one." This left the instructor in a bit of a pickle, because no-one else in the room could claim Irish heritage. We went and grabbed some Guinnesses...or Guinnessi...whatever the plural is...after class and decided that it would be best to just carry on through the quarter with the Dirty Mick monickers, slinging it the way rap artists swing the "n" word. This should be a great semester.